persons are sent on the most frivolous
errands, to jostle and form the doubtful acquaintances of some street oldsters, rarely for
any good purpose. The scenes of debauchery and lewdness too that meet the eye, the
offensive language and indecent utterances that cannot bear the light of day, are among the
numerous reasons that may be advanced against the practice recited above. 1
The 1885 editorial evoked a place in which encounters
between different peoples presented moral and specifically sexual dangers
The construction of ‘workshy’, ‘industrious’ and (non-)compliant inmates in forced labour facilities in the First Republic of Austria between 1918 and 1933
They were ‘improved’, punished and cured:
The construction of ‘workshy’, ‘industrious’
and (non-)compliant inmates in forced
labour facilities in the First Republic of
Austria between 1918 and 1933
Mathilde S., a twenty-one-year-old woman from Styria, was regarded as
‘workshy’. She would roam the streets and beg. She also suffered from epilepsy. Her illness was considered to exacerbate her moral weakness. She was
convicted for vagrancy and begging, had to serve one month in prison, then
was detained and forced to work in a ‘Zwangsarbeitsanstalt
books such as Easeful Death, she
now claimed that it was ‘inhumane’ to deny people the right to die.8
She argued that this included not only terminally ill patients, but
also individuals who felt they were a burden on their families due
to disability or old age.9 When it came to assisted dying, Warnock
argued, doctors had a pressing duty, ‘unless their religion forbids it’,
to respect the autonomy of dying, elderly and disabled patients.10 In
a 2008 column for the Observer, she stressed that ‘we have a moral
obligation to take other people’s seriously reached
Representing persecution and extermination in French crime fiction of the 1980s and 1990s
to capture and preserve such war memories. The survivor
stories which emerged in these decades were, therefore, charged narratives. They were stories which conformed to existing narrative templates
for understanding the war years (victimisation and heroism) but also
challenged such constructions of the past evoking the moral ambiguities of wartime memories and their legacies. They were also mobilised
as potent stories in the context of present-day debates over collective
guilt and responsibility, above all in relation to the Final
hungry people act and how the fear of hunger, of absolute bodily
need, makes people act, hunger is relegated to a stimulus that
provokes a reflex response. Likewise, work inspired by E.P.
Thompson’s now famous paper delineating the ‘moral
economy’ of the English ‘crowd’ has tended to
ignore – though the following section examines the nuances in
this work – hunger altogether
In Year 2 of the Revolution (1794) Robespierre, seeking to establish a new deist national morality created the Festival of the Supreme Being celebrated on 20 Prairial Year 2 (8 June 1794). This book begins by tracing the progress in the development of Robespierre’s thinking on the importance of the problem which the lack of any acceptable national moral system through the early years of the Revolution had created, his vision of a new attitude towards religion and morality, and why he chose a Revolutionary Festival to launch his idea. It focusses on the importance of the Festival by showing that it was not only a major event in Paris, with a huge man-made mountain on the Champ de Mars; it was also celebrated in great depth in almost every city, town and village throughout France. It seeks to redefine the importance of the Festival in the history of the Revolution, not, as historians have traditionally dismissed it, merely as the performance of a sterile and compulsory political duty, but on the contrary, as a massively popular national event. The author uses source material from national and local archives describing the celebrations as well as the reaction to the event and its importance by contemporary commentators. This is the first book since the 1980s and the only work in English to focus on this Festival and to redefine its importance in the development of the Revolution.
From the day that Europeans first stepped ashore to occupy the Australian continent, they were never alone. If colonists took comfort from the presence of these familiar beasts, they remained less certain of the indigenous creatures they encountered. This book argues that the practice of vivisection inextricably linked familiar animals and venomous snakes in colonial Australia, and offers a new perspective, inter alia, on science and medicine in the colonial antipodes. Public vivisections to study envenomation and antidotes established standards of proof and authority which were followed, rather than led, by learned professionals. The book establishes the concept of the colonial animal matrix, elaborating how white settlers related both to the domestic species that landed alongside them and the autochthonous animals they encountered up to 1840. By the early 1850s, plebeian expertise had established vivisection as the prime means of knowing venomous animals in Australia. Instruments and living experiments became necessary to establish objective medical facts in the antipodes. By the time that Britain legislatively regulated vivisection in mid-1876, animal experimentation had independently become de rigueur for colonial investigations of envenomation and remedies. Seeking an effective remedy for snakebite was considered sufficient reason to lessen moral consideration for animals such as dogs, involved in such experiments. Clinical experience appeared largely to trump vivisectional data for much of the 1890s. Yet, when a 'universal' antivenene appeared, predicated upon the new science of immunology, its efficacy was concomitantly discredited by the novel technologies of experimental medicine.
As the British and French empires expanded, constructing new imperial dimensions through growing commerce and the relationships of industrialisation, the bases of Spanish power were being undermined. Nationalism, revolt, the pursuit of forms of decolonisation (often aided by Spain's rivals) became the prime characteristic of Central and South American politics. This book examines the study of natural history in the Spanish empire in the years 1750-1850, explaining how the Spanish authorities collected specimens for the Real Jardín Botanico and the Real Gabinete de Historia Natural. During this period, Spain made strenuous efforts to survey, inventory and exploit the natural productions of her overseas possessions, orchestrating a series of scientific expeditions and cultivating and displaying American fauna and flora in metropolitan gardens and museums. This book assesses the cultural significance of natural history, emphasising the figurative and utilitarian value with which eighteenth-century Spaniards invested natural objects, from globetrotting elephants to three-legged chickens. Attention is also paid to the ambiguous position of Creole (American-born Spanish) naturalists, who were simultaneously anxious to secure European recognition for their work, to celebrate the natural wealth of their homelands. It considers the role of precision instruments, physical suffering and moral probity in the construction of the naturalist's professional identity. The book assesses how indigenous people, women and Creoles measured up to these demanding criteria. Finally, it discusses how the creation, legitimisation and dissemination of scientific knowledge reflected broader questions of imperial power and national identity.
When General Charles Gordon lived at Gravesend in the 1860s, he turned himself into a child rescuer. This book contributes to understandings of both contemporary child welfare practices and the complex dynamics of empire. It analyses the construction and transmission of nineteenth-century British child rescue ideology. The book aims to explain the mentality which allowed the child removal policy to flourish. The disseminated publications by four influential English child rescue organisations: Dr. Barnardo's (DBH), the National Children's Homes (NCH), the Church of England Waifs and Strays Society (WSS) and the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children (NSPCC), are discussed. The gospel of child rescue was a discursive creation, the impact of which would be felt for generations to come. The body of the child was placed within a familiar environment, rendered threatening by the new social, religious and moral meanings ascribed to it. Ontario's 1888 Children's Protection Act required local authorities to assume maintenance costs of wards and facilitated the use of foster care. Changing trends in publishing have created an opportunity for the survivors of out-of-home care to tell their stories. The book shows how the vulnerable body of the child at risk came to be reconstituted as central to the survival of nation, race and empire. The shocking testimony that official enquiries into the treatment of children in out-of-home 'care' held in Britain, Ireland, Australia and Canada imply that there was no guarantee that the rescued child would be protected from further harm.
The operation of the British model of imperialism was never consistent, seldom coherent, and far from comprehensive. Purity campaigns, controversies about the age of consent, the regulation of prostitution and passage and repeal of contagious diseases laws, as well as a new legislative awareness of homosexuality, were all part of the sexual currency of the late Victorian age. Colonial governments, institutions and companies recognised that in many ways the effective operation of the Empire depended upon sexual arrangements. They devised elaborate systems of sexual governance, but also devoted disproportionate energy to marking and policing the sexual margins. This book not only investigates controversies surrounding prostitution, homosexuality and the age of consent in the British Empire, but also revolutionises people's notions about the importance of sex as a nexus of imperial power relations. The derivative hypothesis, which reads colonial sexuality politics as something England did or gave to its colonies, is illustrated and made explicit by the Indian Spectator, which seemed simply to accept that India should follow English precedent. In 1885, the South Australian parliament passed legislation, similar to England's Criminal Law Amendment Act, which raised the age of consent from 13 to 16 and introduced a series of restrictions and regulations on sexual conduct. Richard Francis Burton's case against the moral universalism and sex between men are discussed. 'Cognitively mapping' sexuality politics, the book has traced connections between people, places and politics, exploring both their dangers and opportunities, which revolve in each case around embroilments in global power.